


wish i had offed myself instead, wish i was never born

by spids



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squip, Angst, Be More Chill - Freeform, Sad Jeremy, Sad Michael, Trans Michael, Trans Michael Mell, and he's makin his own dumb decisions, au where the squip never happened, basically germy is a lil fuck, bmc, boyf riends — Freeform, but not rly, germy just weasled himself into the ""popular group"", his priorities are all out of wack, im sorry, im sorry????, my poor boyo mich, not really - Freeform, suicide!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 00:19:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11862699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spids/pseuds/spids
Summary: michael doesn't have the best time at the halloween party, and jeremy doesn't have very much fun afterwards either.





	wish i had offed myself instead, wish i was never born

**Author's Note:**

> SUICIDE!!!! watch out homies !!  
> this also isn't proofread so :DDDD shit  
> also, hi,, i know this sucks but i mean???? how am i ever supposed to get better if i never write anythin'????

"get out of my way, loser."

the line wouldn't stop replaying itself in michael's head, clashing with his own panicked thoughts. michael resisted the urge to destroy every object in that damned bathroom at just the thought of jeremy shoving past him without a care in the world. he splashed water in his face, his racing heart still not calming down, and his anger still boiling. he lamely threw water from the faucet towards the mirror, doing anything he could to release the pent up emotions.

he took a step back and angrily stomped his foot, never minding the childish feeling he got for it. his head tilted back so he stared at the ceiling, his hands tangling and wrapping knots into his hair. "shit. shit. shit. shit," michael cursed at nothing, his teeth grit and his scalp twinging with every tug at his locks.

through this fit of anger and panic, he almost didn't even notice the sounds coming from outside.

why were they banging on the door so loudly? why were they screaming?

it didn't matter much anyways, everything sounded underwater to him- like background noise. it didn't matter how hard he could've tried, there was no way he could focus on it with all of the voices already consuming his thoughts.

michael left the faucet running and slammed his back against the wall, his glasses nearly falling off of his face as he slid down to the floor. he buried his face into his hands, muffling his hyperventilated screams into his palms. he didn't really have to worry about anybody hearing him though, the frantic yells from the other side of the door overpowered his.

if michael had thought about it more, he could've noticed as the screams faded from excited teenagers to terrified, panicking ones. he wasn't paying much attention to that though- what did catch his attention was that heavy stench of smoke.

where the hell did that come from?

michael looked up from his hands, hiccuping and continuing to choke on his tears as he noticed the smoke coming in from underneath the door. what the fuck?

with a heaving chest and his knees wobbly, michael got to his feet and rushed as quickly as he could to the door. he used a shaky hand to grip the doorknob, but immediately yanked his arm back with a yelp of pain. he ignored his stinging hand and instead focused on the reality that, holy shit, he was about to die, and there was no way out of it.

michael choked up on tears, but cursed himself for it. he was just begging for this opportunity five minutes ago, so why was he afraid now?

fuck this.

if he was going to die, it would be by his own hand. he wouldn't let some house fire take the reins on his death. he would do this on his own.

he pulled up the necked hem from his sweater to cover his face from his nose down, and multi-tasked to regulate his breathing and pull out his phone. he went straight to jeremy's contact.

in an impulsive act, he called jeremy's number and didn't notice how it went straight to voicemail. he left a message.

"h-hey jere, there's a fuckin' fire and um- i'm trapped in the bathroom. i- uh- just wanted to tell you that i'm sorry, and i-i love you."

michael rushed out the message, his coughing and awkward two second silences due to lumps in his throat mixing in between the tearful words. he dropped his phone onto the floor as the voicemail sent, and he wasted no time to go straight for the mirror he was previously yelling towards.

he looked at his wrecked reflection for a second or two, mentally pep-talking himself up- _you've got this_ \- before he started coughing again, and he could feel his lungs starting to ache. he grit his teeth as he punched his arm out and let his fist collide with the mirror, his adrenaline racing too quickly to acknowledge how bloody his fist was now.

he ignored the throbbing headache as he frantically found a large enough shard of glass from the inside of the sink. he took one last look at his reflection in the bits and pieces left of the mirror before sitting back down on the floor again. he figured he'd rather sit down now than collapse later- though it really didn't matter.

michael bit down on his sweater to keep it up and covering his nose as he yanked up his sleeves. his sobs and coughs were muffled by the fabric, along with some thoughts that he was rambling out. the words were undecipherable, but it wouldn't matter anyways. nobody would ever hear them, nobody would ever know what michael was thinking- what he had been thinking since the eighth grade- and he wasn't sure whether or not he could accept that.

he squeezed his eyes shut, and took his death into his own hands.

-

_"i love you jeremy-i'm so sorry-i love you i love you and i love slushies and i love my ma and i love jeremy i love you i love you i love you i love-"_

_-_

it had been a few days later when jeremy found out.

at this point, he had resorted to silencing his phone in an attempt to avoid all of the gossip about jake's halloween party. it was a night he'd rather forget- for multiple reasons. ( christine's rejection being the main one. he really thought that he had read all of the signs right. this wasn't the first time jeremy had suspected that someone had reciprocated the feelings for him- this was just the first time he had acted out on his suspicions. )

jeremy was tucked into the corner of the sofa while his dad was actually at work for once in his life. that morning he had actually scoffed, shocked at the sight of an empty driveway and twenty bucks on the table.

he wasn't complaining though, now he had the freedom to be out in the living room, instead of being in his own bedroom.

the t.v. was on, even without somebody watching it. it was left on the news channel that jeremy's dad had been watching when the t.v. was turned off earlier that morning. jeremy hadn't bothered changing it, it was just background noise for him anyways.

he was halfheartedly scrolling around on his phone, half asleep and caught up in his own mind. it wasn't until a few minutes later when something on the t.v. had caught his attention.

they were talking about jake's house-- but why? they already covered this story multiple times, so why was it being brought up again?

jeremy shoved his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants and grabbed the remote, raising the volume to the t.v. he wiggled around to sit up straighter, his previously tired eyes now awake and focused.

 _"....a halloween house party gone sour when teenager, rich goranski, allegedly decided to burn the house down. as earlier discussed, no charges are being pressed and the authorities have labelled it as a tragic accident. as said in previous reports, the only human damages caused were third degree burns on the body of said rich goranski, and also to jake dillinger, who has ended up with both legs broken. recently, though, the authorities and a set of grieving parents have stepped forward to report the death of their daughter, michelle mell."_ \-- before jeremy could even process what they had said, his eye scrunched up into a cringe at the sound of michael's dead name, and flinched as michael's school picture faded onto the screen. _"the teenager was found in the bathroom with a broken mirror and slit wrists, dead before the smoke could even reach her. here is what her mother has to say on the matter--"_

jeremy stopped paying attention as soon as a new window expanded onto the screen, mrs. mell looking exhausted with red, puffy eyes. michael's father wasn't there- of course. jeremy couldn't stomach anymore of it.

he let the remote fall down onto the floor as he processed all he had heard. his first thoughts were cursing towards the news reporters- surely mrs. mell had told them that it was _michael_ \- not _michelle_. she had always been supportive of her son, so there was no way she would've allowed them to use his dead name. he almost felt bad for the reporters; when mrs. mell was angry, all of hell quaked.

after he got past his annoyance towards the speakers, he finally thought about what they had said. as the realization hit him, he could feel something spread throughout his body- he couldn't quite put his finger on the feeling; all he knew was that it resembled the need to vomit, and his dad would kill him if it got on the sofa.

with the uncomfortably intense acknowledgment of his own heartbeat and wobbly knees, jeremy carefully stood up, making sure to movie slowly so he wouldn't shake around anything in his stomach. he moved like a slug towards the bathroom, his mouth tightly shut, his gut churning, and his heart beat being the only thing he could hear- he wondered if anyone else would be able to hear it as well, if anybody were there.

as he got to the restroom, he shakily turned the light on and crawled down onto the floor, sitting himself down next to the toilet. he raised the seat and leaned elbow onto it, just waiting for the vomiting feeling to erupt.

his breaths were heavy and through his mouth, and as he screwed his eyes shut and awaited the disgusting inevitable, he could start to hear the television again. it was the same lady, still misgendering michael. jeremy willed himself not to listen, but with nothing else to think about other than his salivating mouth, he decided to listen.

_"michelle was found with nothing but broken glass, slit wrists, and a sent voicemail that has not been revealed under her parent's requests."_

now jeremy was confused. who would michael send a voicemail to? maybe his mom- but he knew that they weren't _that_ close. michael didn't have any other friends either, not besides- ah, shit. 

he could suddenly feel his stomach twist into knots as he sickly pulled his phone out of his pocket. he hadn't had the guts to block michael's number, but he didn't have a problem ignoring them. he usually just convinced himself that he was simply forgetting to answer- not deliberately. 

after dreadfully ignoring all of the messages from his newfound friends that suddenly had something nice to say about michael, it took him a few seconds to get to the phone app and see a missed call- jeremy remembered that. he remembered being on the way home from the party, too pissed and too embarrassed to let the phone ring through the silence. he just hit decline and continued his walk home. 

jeremy ignored the tug that ran through his body as he shook his head, trying to believe that there was no way- 

**player one: one missed call**

**player one: one unopened voicemail**

he grit his teeth, noting that the voicemail would be deleted tomorrow if it weren't saved. he decided that he would listen- he'd be in the suspense his whole life if he didn't. he clicked the voicemail and held the phone up to his ear. 

he almost dropped the phone into the toilet as soon as michael's voice cracked through the shaky speaker. 

jeremy felt his stomach twist tighter with every stumble in his (ex?-)best friend's voice and with every lump-throat pause. the twisting feeling crept up and throughout his entire body as michael admitted his love.

when the voicemail cut off, jeremy dropped the phone and failed to notice how it cracked against the tiles. he was too busy hunching over the toilet, his hands gripping the edges of it as he spewed out the left-over pizza he had eaten earlier. his hair fell into his face, but he couldn't be bothered to care as tears sprung into his eyes, his sobs evident through the choked noises of his vomiting.

with tear streaks marking his skin, jeremy coughed up the last of it all, and the smell alone almost made him start up again. once he knew that he was probably done, he rapidly backed away from the toilet and turned his head away from the stench, his breathing heavy.

his hands found their way into his hair, entangling themselves into the wavy mess as he focused down onto the floor, desperately trying to make sense of all that's happened.

the more jeremy thought about it, the more his chest lurched, and the more tears poured down his face like rainfalls.

the only sound he could hear now was his own sobbing breaths, which started to sound more like background noise. his nose began to run, and he couldn't bother to do anything else but use his sleeve to wipe at it. he was a hot mess.

his mind began to race with so many thoughts of shock, regret, guilt, and self loath.

_this is all your fault. you fucking idiot. you wanted popularity so badly, it cost you your best friend's life._

jeremy was hyperventilating at this point, deciding to rush up onto his feet and express his pent up emotions with movement. he paced around the bathroom a few times before leaving, subconsciously finding the vomiting scent too much to handle.

_you did this. you. he loved you- he cared about you- but all you did was fuck him over. you deserve to die you deserve to die you deserve to die you deserve to-_

he had interutped his own thoughts as he reached the door to the basement. his dad's tools were probably in there. probably some rope.

jeremy didn't even give himself any time to consider it- he went head-on into the basement and let the door slam behind him. his teary eyes caused the lights to blur, but he didn't let it bother him as he sped-walked his way over to the back of the room.

he knelt down, sniffling every two seconds as he nearly blindly searched around for any rope.

_come on come on come on come on- where's the fuckin' rope?_

there it was.

jeremy yanked out the rope from underneath all of his dad's tools and shit, his chest heaving as he searched frantically for an object to stand on and a spot on the ceiling.

as he stood on some old plastic boxes filled with christmas decorations and tying the rope up with some old knot he remembered from scouts, the room filled with his hiccups and coughed up cries.

once everything was set up, jeremy sobbed up some incomprehensible words as he followed michael's path.

_-_

_"i'm so sorry michael i love you so much, please please please, i love you so fucking much i miss you i miss you i miss you- michael!-"_

**Author's Note:**

> jeremy's side wasn't meant to be so much more than my boy mich's oof  
> ALSO!!!! i apologize if michael's side seemed so rushed while jeremy's seemed very dragged out, but there has to be some philosophical reason behand that somewhere.  
> oof hi also i know this isn't sad enough to make someone cry, but i still had a somewhat tolerably fun time writing it- so whoo.


End file.
